Well the Getsum crew was able to assemble on Sunday for some late archery elk action. As is the norm these days, we like to do things the hard way. We spent the morning climbing half way up one side of the wenas valley (literally), just for Coach to spot a big herd of elk at the top of the ridge on the other side of the valley
Coach looks at me, I look at him, and down the mountain we go! Up,up,up, and up some more until we got above them.
We split up so we could flank the herd. We shadowed them for about an hour. As they fed up Coach's side of the basin, I got comfortable as I was certain I had a front row seat to an elk's final moments. As I sat there freezing my tail off, I hear gun shots from down below in the valley. Elk weren't too excited about that and started to feed back down into the bottom of the basin. Wind was good, we were both hidden from sight but for some reason the whole herd spooks and starts my way. Totally unprepared for the sudden shift in action, I only had a few seconds before my window opened. I could range, or I could draw, but there was no time for both. Sitting on my butt with my legs out in front of me I yanked the bow back just as the first cow came through my saddle. A short whistle brought her to a stop, I settled my 60 pin on the last rib, bubbled up, and the trigger broke clean! That beautiful red light buried in her side! I got glass on her just as the fog engulfed her and my heart sank! It looked like I hit too far back in her flank. I gathered my pack, text Coach, and when I turned around and the fog blew off I saw a 2ft wide trail of blood that went across the ridge and out of sight.
With Aaron's bow in my hand, the moment hit me a bit. Sadness that he wasn't with me, excitement that his bow continues to hunt elk, and anger because he should be the one shooting arrows out of that bow at elk, not me. Coach made it down to me and we found her piled up in a rock slide shortly after. My arrow did in fact find its mark in the back of the ribs and came out the offside shoulder.
The terrain resembled a sheep hunt more than it did an elk hunt. With the loose rock and mud, we made the decision to roll her off the hill instead of boning and trying to get off that mountain with loaded packs. We got her off just as darkness covered us up. We broke her down, and back at the truck the guys took some steaks and we all hit the road.
My schedule didn't give me much time to hunt with the crew this year so I was very thankful to hook up for one last hunt before the season ended.
Heading back to Bullblaster's house this coming weekend to try and find a deer to hang my Washington tag on. Standards are low and I said at the beginning of the season that I was gonna kill a 4pt or else a doe on the last day of the last open season. I've passed on lots of legal bucks this season in Washington looking for a good one so I have no regrets if it comes down to a whitetail doe.